


The Other Way

by lovelyrhink (crimsonwinter)



Category: Rhett & Link, Rhett and Link
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom!Rhett, Fingering, M/M, rhink, safe sex, top!Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonwinter/pseuds/lovelyrhink
Summary: Rhett has some feelings about the way fans write him and Link having sex, so Link suggests they try it the other way.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 15
Kudos: 90





	The Other Way

A few weeks after introducing their new rental house, in a universe where they aren’t kept apart from each other, Rhett and Link have some time to themselves. With no pressing projects, the two men spend a weekend together in the space, returning to their homesteads in the evening. On Sunday, Link makes a grilled cheese while Rhett scrolls the internet from the couch.

It’s bright outside, and nearly summer. Link keeps the radio off in favor of birdsong, and the open windows rejoice a clean breeze. Link’s flipping his perfectly-toasted sandwich when Rhett says something strange.

“They’ve really got some strong opinions, don’t they?”

“Who?”

“The beasts who write fan fiction about us. It’s a hive mind.”

Link blinks, stares down at the bread. Golden brown and crispy with butter, but not too toasty. Just right. “Why’re you reading that crap, man? Nobody’s forcing you.”

Link had amused Rhett’s reactions when they filmed that godawful fanfic episode, but if he were a fan, a fan of that- that _persuasion_ , he wouldnt’ve watched the episode. He’s tried to put it out of his mind, ignore haunting peanut butter dreams. Their content has been going blue for years, but that episode was an acknowledgement unlike any other, and Link’s surprised Rhett’s acknowledging it now. Rhett answers him with silence, and glancing over, Link can see there’s words on his laptop screen.

In the half-minute that passes, Link turns off the burner and lifts his snack onto a plate. He sets it on the counter and waits for it to cool. Something prickles the back of his neck when he thinks too hard. Rhett speaks.

“It’s always me doin’ it to you,” he states. “Almost always.”

Link sighs through his nose. “Rhett…”

“It makes sense they’d think that. I mean, I’m bigger than you.”

Heat starts creeping up Link’s spine, so he smothers his mouth with a bite of hot, cheesy bread. It burns, and he has nothing to say.

“Not to mention your affinity for your bidet. And this new bit the writers got, with you ‘sitting’ on stuff.”

_Why is he telling me what I already know?_ Link thinks. _Please, stop talking._

It goes quiet again, and Link chews slowly with a scorched tongue. He can feel Rhett’s finger scrolling the page, his hungry eyes drinking every word. Link fills a mason jar with tap water and tries to wash out the burn, then against his better judgement, takes another bite. Better, but still hot. Or maybe that’s just him.

Link focuses on his sandwich and not the twinge in his low belly as he processes Rhett’s words. He chews, eyes closed, but he can barely taste cheese.

“How do they know it’d even happen that way? It’s very assumptive.”

_Shut up! Just shut up!_ “Can you stop? I don’t want to think about this when I’m eating,” Link quips, but it’s too late. Rhett’s voice is indignant in a way Link’s never heard it, like he cares too much, and his insistence to think these thoughts aloud is making Link excited with familiar, unfair heat.

Again, Rhett falls silent. Link eats 3/4ths of his grilled cheese with a numb mouth, mind racing to find answers for Rhett’s strange mood. Link senses Rhett click onto another tab, and his friend makes a weird huffy sound like he’s displeased. Equally huffy, Link goes to stand before Rhett to show him the meal his words have ruined. Rhett looks up from his laptop and locks eyes with Link as Link takes a final bite, and of course, it tastes like nothing. This was the good cheese, dammit.

Rhett blinks at Link and resumes reading. His beardy mouth then says, far too coolly, “Even if we _did_ have sex, it should be our own thing. They shouldn’t have a say.”

Link jaw goes slack and a few cheesy crumbs fall out of his open mouth. There it is again, that something in Rhett’s voice that sounds like he’s in the mood to prove someone wrong. It makes Link burn even hotter. Rhett prefers not to be told what to do, but that’s only for actions he’ll actually consider…

Link sets his plate on the nearest surface, forgoing the sandwich. “Why,” he twangs, “are you _doing_ this?”

Rhett looks up and licks his lips. Link stares back. Rhett’s eyebrows go up, and with dark eyes, he answers, “I’m just sayin’. Nobody can predict what it’d actually be like.” Beat. “For us.”

The two men stare at each other for three moments too long. Link’s heat thrums in his veins, under his skin, his appetite for lunch replaced with another. The longer Rhett looks at him, the farther they get from the joke. When neither man backs down, tension grabs Link by the cock and makes him say something stupid.

“If you’re so bothered by it, then why don’t we try it the other way?”

The big man on the couch closes his laptop and pushes it off his lap. Eyes going ever-darker, he breaks into a smug grin, the kind he gets when he’s about to win a game. “Okay,” says Rhett. “Go get the lube in your office.”

Link’s about to retort, “I don’t have-“ but his body gets slammed with lust. Lightning strike, liquid heat, alerting his cock with an abrupt sharpness he’s never felt with his wife. Wordlessly, he obeys. He’s in the office when Rhett shouts after him.

“I know you jerk off in there, Neal!”

Burning with five types of fire, Link moves to his desk before fear can stop him. Rhett’s right, of course, and Link opens the desk drawer and finds the lube he’s stashed. Deeper in the drawer lie six condoms, and at the time, Link had no idea why he’d even put them there. Now that he’s tenting his pants with Rhett in the other room, waiting for him, he figures he must’ve known what this house was really for. He grabs a condom and brings it and the lube out with him.

The laptop remains closed at the far end of the couch, and Rhett’s hands are clasped patiently in his lap. Link has no idea what he’s doing when he returns to his friend, presenting, but he does it anyway.

“Ohohoho,” Rhett chuckles. “Look at you!” His eyes drop from Link’s face to his groin, and having Rhett’s eyes on his privates makes Link a little weak in the knees. His flame sparks, and nothing in his body tells him to turn back now.

Link’s pissed, somehow, that Rhett’s doing this now, and not ages ago when they were single and alone every night. His body doesn’t seem to mind one bit that Rhett’s aged, that his hair is curlier and longer than ever, and his beard is overgrown. The crow’s feet by his smiling eyes just make Link want him all the more.

Nervous, Link tosses the lube at him. “Get to it,” he barks.

Rhett huffs, tossing the lube back. “Do it yourself.”

Link tosses. “You want me to do this, so get yourself ready.”

Rhett tosses. “No, _you_ want to fuck _me_ , so _you_ should get _me_ ready.”

This annoying, smug sonuvabitch! Impatient, Link’s cock pulls him forward and drops him to his knees. With trembling hands, Link unbuckles Rhett’s belt quickly and strips him of his pants and briefs. It’s insane, truly insane, but when Rhett’s bare from the waist down Link groans aloud at the sight.

“Heh. You like it,” Rhett teases, because Link’s not looking at his face. Rhett’s pretty thick cock twitches under the attention, and Link’s mouth waters.

He’s always known he was more gay than anything else, and twenty years of doubts fly out his head as he watches the head of Rhett’s cock go ruddy.

“Uh,” Link starts, but then Rhett bends for him. He brings his long legs up and spreads, hooking his hands behind his knees. Link can feel the warmth of him hit his face, and the scent, and his internal beast growls. He closes his eyes at first glimpse of Rhett’s pretty pink hole, twitching for him. “This is weird.”

“It’s not weird, you’re just shy.” Rhett releases one knee and grabs for Link’s wrist. Breathless, he whines, “Touch me,” and puts Link’s hand on his cock.

_Fuck!_ Those twenty years of denial laugh in Link’s face at the feel of his best friend’s cock, warm and smooth and thiiiiiiiiiiiiiick in his hand. Link can feel his face blushing beet red, and when he chances a glance upwards, Rhett’s pink in the face too, his handsome brows creased and his red lip sucked between his teeth. They meet eyes, and Link’s body sends a weird cry out his mouth. Link works Rhett like that, tugging him slowly, dryly, with his eyes on Rhett’s face. The pinker Rhett goes, and the more sounds he makes, the less shy Link feels, and soon he’s smoothing both hands up the back of Rhett’s thighs, purring.

“I’m gonna- gonna wet ya,” Link says, uncapping the small bottle of lube.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Link moves quick, pouring lube over two fingers and smearing the wetness on Rhett’s rim. He knows how to do this; he’s done it to himself, but he’s never been so reactive as the big man is now. Rhett pulls his thighs back and opens himself up, leaning his curly head back over the couch. He makes pretty little noises of impatience, and Link can feel his cock pushing a damp spot in his dark jeans. When Link slips the tip of his finger in, Rhett cants his hips, catching the finger and sinking it, hard.

“Ohhhh,” the man whines. “That’s good, Link. Move it like that.”

Rhett’s boldness to say his name right now, to tell him what to do, inspires Link to show him his best. Eager to make Rhett proud, Link spends a moment preparing him fully, adding another dollop of lube as he works two fingers down to the lowest knuckle, quirking, pressing into the hot walls of Rhett’s ass.

Watching his two fingers tease open his friend makes Link want to get his cock in there. Horny saliva pools on his tongue, but he keeps his tongue in his mouth lest he try something Rhett doesn’t like. Instead, he reaches his dry hand down and squeezes his dick, eyes trained on the glistening wet show before him.

Link stands on both feet and kneels over Rhett, unzipping to pull his cock out. He’s diamond-hard and needy, and when he reaches for the condom by Rhett’s hip, Rhett has the audacity to tease him from his compromising position.

“Why do you have those? Don’t want to get your hand pregnant? You’re snipped, remember?”

“Shut it,” Link snarls, smacking Rhett’s flank in a warning. “I’m being safe.”

Rhett purses his lips and wiggles down into his position, pulling at the back of his knees. Link opens the condom carefully and rolls it over his cock, eyes on Rhett. Rhett’s unafraid. In his face, there’s only trust. Memory. Link admires him like this, delicious in his navy blue button-up and white ankle socks, bare where it counts and pink in the face.

“Come on, big boy,” Rhett sings. “Give it to me.”

Link shoves his jeans down to mid-thigh and crawls awkwardly onto the couch, knees at either side. Rhett’s crunched on himself underneath him, and with his legs out like this, he’s even bigger. Link wastes no more time and puts the red head of his cock to Rhett’s pink rim, gritting his teeth as Rhett opens for him. “Shit, oh, shit.”

Rhett makes breathy noises as he watches his friend and business partner sink his inches. He even tugs his sac out of the way to get a better look, which inspires Link to do it for him, holding Rhett’s delicates in one hand, the other braced on the back of his thigh. Pushing, pushing.

Buried, Link can feel Rhett flexing around him through the thin latex. He’s hot, and wet, and ribbed, and hot and wet and tight, and tight again, and Link strains to keep his cock from prematurely weeping. Gritting his teeth, he starts moving, but the resistance is unlike any he’s felt before, even on his most desperate nights.

“This your first time?” Rhett goads, and Link can’t bear to look at him. He pulls and pushes his hips ’til Rhett’s body accepts him fully, and only when Rhett’s head falls back and his bratty mouth goes breathless does Link look at him again.

And then it hits him. He’s fucking Rhett. He’s fucking _fucking_ Rhett. For real, in a real space, in real time. Overwhelmed, Link cries out and grabs Rhett by the thighs, his body obeying its instinct to mount and breed, pelvis snapping hard into the wetness. Grunting, Link crushes Rhett under him, pushing hard on his thighs, eyes on the bunched up belly where his shirt rides up.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Rhett moans, which only makes Link fuck harder. It’s a dance, a ritual they’ve waited more than twenty years to complete, and Link knows what Rhett meant when he said the fans can’t take this from them. Nobody can take this from them.

_“Yeah,”_ Link groans. Rhett’s thighs are nearly the size of his torso, and as Link crushes him into the couch, he wants everything. “Put your legs on me.”

Rhett obeys, releasing his legs and hooking them over Link’s shoulders. Link leans closer and grabs Rhett by the waist, spurring himself into a deeper grind. Bump bump bump go his hips, and it’s only a moment of frantic fuckering before Link wants more.

“Moan for me,” he orders, and Rhett does.

“Look at me,” Rhett requests, and Link does.

Lost in the sauce, Link leans his head and starts mouthing Rhett’s neck. Hips working hard, giving Rhett what he asked for and proving to him that Rhett’s right where he’s meant to be: under him. His wet mouth leaves shiny swirls on Rhett’s neck, and Link works down, hungry, snuffling on his chest. Link groans and rips open Rhett’s button-up for more chest, which only makes Rhett whine and puff for him. He gets as much chest as he can, straining to suck Rhett’s cute nipples.

Rhett grabs Link by the waist and sweeps his hands under his shirt, over his shoulders and down his arms. The couch starts to creak with the weight of them, and the silence of the space echoes birdsong and lovesong, two men moaning in harmony. Link can’t hold out much longer with Rhett like this, so he puts his lips close to Rhett’s ear and tells him.

“Gonna come, Rhett. Inside you.”

“Inside me.”

Link rears up and pins Rhett to the couch by his chest, hands on the bare, mouth-wet skin. His hips fuck hard when Rhett looks at him with that pink, pleasured face, snapping into an orgasm twenty years overdue. Rhett and Link stare at each other, locking eyes with open, moaning mouths, and in the moments before eruption, Rhett gets brave.

One hand on Link’s waist, legs over his shoulders, the other hand grabs Link by the back of the neck and pulls him into an open-mouthed kiss.

Link thrashes wildly atop his man, slipping and sliding through the tightening muscle as he tongues, tastes, and comes inside him. Rhett makes noises on his mouth and bucks through his own finish, trusting the couch to hold their weight as the reservoir tip fills with Link’s goodness.

Link pulls off Rhett’s mouth to cry one last loud, desperate noise, Rhett’s tight muscle clamping on him. As his hips slow, Rhett twitches beneath him, and Link returns to Earth to find Rhett crunched and mostly-naked beneath him, bite marks on his chest and neck. Link doesn’t remember putting them there as he floats in the afterglow, falling into Rhett as his cock stubbornly refuses to soften, but throbs, spent, sticky in its casing.

The creative house goes quiet as Rhett encloses Link in his long arms. He moves his legs off Link’s shoulders, and Link idly traces the creases in his hips. Distantly, he thinks the house could probably use a bed.

Remnants of his grilled cheese sit forgotten, gone cold on the plate.


End file.
